Courage
by Nightmarish
Summary: A postwar sorting.


Disclaimer: Everything in the Potter-verse belongs to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing, you silly, silly people.

Summary: A post-war sorting.

Warnings: Major spoilers for _Deathly Hallows_. You have been warned.

Note: This was the first thing that came to mind after finishing the book. It's short and simple, and there's always a chance someone has already done it (I purposefully haven't looked – haven't read any HPfanfic post-book, yet), but I had to get this out. Enjoy.

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**Courage**

_- A Work of Fanfiction - _

By

Nightmarish

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"Potter, Albus!" 

Whispers broke out all across the Great Hall as students who had previously been engaged in hushed conversations of their own suddenly turned their undivided attention towards the front of the room. Albus wished they wouldn't.

He took a deep breath, and stepped forward. Sinking shakily onto the three legged stool in front of the staff table, he lifted the time-worn Sorting Hat and settled it on his head. It was far too large, falling clear past his ears and completely blocking the Great Hall from sight. Albus couldn't help but feel relieved; logically, he knew that being unable to see them did not change the fact that hundreds of eyes were watching his every twitchy movement, but _not_ seeing them made the whole ordeal seem less terrifying.

_Ah, the next Potter. I've been waiting for you,_ said a voice into his mind.

Albus jumped slightly, even though he'd been expecting this. _Er, hello._

_Let's have a look, shall we? Not short on brains, I see. Plenty of courage. Loyal to a fault, I'd say. And – what's this? An overwhelming desire to prove yourself. _The hat seemed to chuckle. _Well, well, this is a dilemma. Where to put you? _It hummed ponderously. _Well, what say you? Shall you choose for yourself, like your father? Now _there_ was an interesting head. Of course, I was given the rare chance to examine him more than once…._

_Did the hat chat this much to everyone?_ Albus wondered, slightly taken aback.

_Oh, of course not, you silly boy. Now hurry up and make your decision. I've others to Sort._

_My decision?_ Albus thought. _You're seriously letting me pick?_ He remembered what his father had said, but he hadn't thought –

_Everyone picks. They just don't always realize it. I'm examining your _mind_, boy. _Your_ mind. Stands to reason your choice counts for something._

_Oh, well…_Albus let the thought trail off. Where would he go, if he really had the choice? The immediate answer was Gryffindor. His entire family had been sorted into Gryffindor. Aunt Hermione. Uncle Neville. He didn't know much about the other houses; only that he'd be teased something dreadful by James if he ended up in Slytherin. And what would people think of Harry Potter's son going into Slytherin? True, its reputation had greatly improved since the end of the war, but the ongoing competition between Slytherin and Gryffindor was still infamous. Courage versus cunning.

His father's words came floating back to him. _"You were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."_ Albus had been told the story of Severus Snape by his parents, who preferred truth over sugarcoating. He suspected it was the watered down version, as even _his_ parents didn't like to say too much about the war in front of the children, but what they did say was the absolute, one hundred percent truth. _"You've got to know,"_ his mother would always say. _"If you don't know the story, how can we expect you to learn anything from it?"_ And even Uncle Ron, whose own anecdotes often referenced the horror that had been Potions class when he was back in school, admitted a grudging respect for the man who had sacrificed so much –

_Well, that answers that question,_ the Sorting Hat broke in matter-of-factly. _There's no question about it – you've got to be in –"_

_Wait – I didn't _choose_ anything! I – _

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat cried, so loudly that Albus winced, clapping his hands over his ears.

The Hall went silent as the grave. Cautiously, Albus lifted the brim of the Sorting Hat and peered out at the body of speechless students. Trembling slightly, he removed the hat, and stood. He turned, placed it gently on the stool behind him, and swung around once more to face the House tables. His heart pounded in his chest. This was it. They would owl his parents, and say there'd been a mistake, that he couldn't possibly be a Slytherin, that he should return home immediately. Headmistress McGonagall, whom he'd known since he was an infant and who came every year for Christmas dinner, would never speak to him again, never -

A sudden movement caught his eye, and Albus' gaze slid over to the Gryffindor table, where James was _standing up_, probably to cross the hall and give Albus a piece of his mind, to storm up to the staff table and –

Whistle loudly. "Yeah, Al!" James shouted, punching the air with one fist. "Go get 'em!"

The proverbial dam was broken. A flood of applause swept through the Great Hall as Victoire stood as well, and then Freddie, and then the Slytherins joined in, all wide eyes and excitement, not to be outdone because he was _theirs_ after all, and –

And Albus felt his limbs come back to life, and he was moving, walking determinedly towards the green and silver bedecked table. People scooted aside to clear a space, and he stepped over the bench, preparing to sit down – and paused. He glanced back up at the staff table, and caught the familiar gaze of the aging headmistress. She inclined her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Albus sat down as the next name on the list was called, smiling as he looked down at his golden place setting, feeling warm all over.

"Took you long enough," the boy beside him said, speaking over the loud cheering for Gilbert Turst, who was sorted into Ravenclaw. Albus looked, and immediately recognized him as the blonde boy from the platform, who had been standing with his parents. "Glad they don't all take as long as you," he continued. "I think I'd pass out from hunger. Scorpius Malfoy." He held out his hand to shake. "But then, you already knew that, didn't you? I saw you looking, on the platform." He grinned, white teeth flashing.

Albus hesitated only a second, the words of his parents' stories echoing in his ears, before reaching out and grasping the proffered hand firmly. "Albus Severus Potter," he said, returning the smile. "But then, you already knew that, didn't you?"

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_Fin_

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_Posted July 24th, 2007_


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